Sweet Nothings
by thimblings
Summary: Love for them meant something, something big. Something real. It was warm and full and complete. But something is always made of a million little nothings, a million tiny insignificants. And nothings can be so, so sweet.Var.Pairings,some slash
1. 2 am: SpxAq

**Disclaimer: **Teen Titans does not belong to me, nor do the characters therein. They belong to Warner Bros./Cartoon Network/DC Comics. I recieve no proft. 

**Author's Note: **This is the beginning of a bunch of short one-shots that I'll be posting on and off based off of a theme list I found somewhere. (if I find it, I'll add it as a credit). They'll probably be pretty short, though this first one's a bit longer. But, the majority will be short and really have no relation to the others. There's no set characters, just those in the Teen Titans universe, and pairings are going to be really varied--including the basic, RobinxStar, BBxTerra, and maybe BBxRae and RobinxRae, and then my own personal preferences such as CyxRae, SpxAqua, SpxCheshire, HotSpotxBlackfire and various others. My writing style is odd and...yeah. These were written for fun, not really for style or grammatical correctness, but I'm going to post them to keep this account active and show a little better talent than the previous stories I've submitted xD. The majority of these might not actually ever mention the character in them, because I tend to just say "he" and "she" if it's a one-shot. Just trust me when I tell you who I was thinking of o3o. I've got a few now, so hopefully I'll keep with it. (no more long chapter fics for me for a bit xD). Hope you enjoy!

This first one's slash. But, most of the pairings will be het. (because I only like one slash pairing in TT), so give it a chance! xDD

**Title: **_2 a.m. _

**Pairing: **_SpeedyxAqualad_

It's 2 A.M. and he's standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and looking at me with black eyes and expecting _me _to say something. And we both know that I don't talk much before _at least_ **four** in the morning, and even then it's just a grunt or two or three and no real complete sentence because I'm still pissed off at Karen for making me get up so damn early and my mouth doesn't work right before noon anyway. But, he still stares at me in his patient, expecting way and I can't help but feel my mouth start to stutter before I even begin to speak. And I don't want to speak, and he knows that because we go through this every day and hour and I haven't spoken _before_, so why would I speak now? But he knows that and obviously doesn't care.

I close my mouth, and he sighs as I run my fingers through my red hair.

He looks at me again, more intensely, no longer leaning but standing straight and taking up the majority of the frame with his broad shoulders. He hasn't said a word, but his eyes are accusing. _You're just running away. Stop running. Stop pretending._ And I glare back at him, wondering what right he has to accuse _me _of running away when he was the one who dived into the water in the first place. I, on the other hand, stood there like an idiot and waited for my shoes to dry after he splashed water on them during his descent.

But, then again, he _is _the one standing in my doorway at two o' clock in the morning.

And I'm the one who's been awake, waiting for him.

And my throat chokes out, "What?" in a harsh manner, more like a cough or a whisper, but still coherent enough to be considered a _word_ at least. And, isn't that good enough?

He sighs again, and leans one arm on the frame, head resting against it in a way that makes his hair fall down his neck and across his shoulder. "How long can this go on?" And his voice is an agitated breath. Quietly he whispers, "I wish you would just…" and I can barely hear it but I see his lips move and I can tell exactly what he wants to say. And I wish he wouldn't, because I don't want to address it. If I give it a name, then it's real and it's _there_ and I won't be able to ignore it.

"Why are you up?" I ask, even though I know the answer. The one that he won't say.

He moves his head slightly, and long black strands stick to his lips as he parts them.

"I couldn't sleep," he says, black eyes closing. "And you couldn't either."

And, of course, he's right.

He walks towards me, light feet sinking into my carpet and I can _smell _him as he nears me and just his presence makes me feel like I'm swimming and I hate swimming but I'm comforted and filled and _wanting_ and I hate it even more. With a delicate motion, he tilts my head and suddenly I taste saltwater and seaweed and coral and the ocean sunset. All mine, on my lips and in my mouth and against me. And it's not the first time, but I'll be damned if it doesn't feel like it because with each time we _feel_ more and more and I know we shouldn't and I wish we didn't. But I bury my hand in his black hair and drink him in and posses him for just a moment.

And I won't tell him. I won't say what he wants to hear.

Because it's still 2 A.M. and reality doesn't hit me until at least four, when he's been gone for an hour and I'm still sailing and not wanting to return to shore or wake up or exist outside of this time and this room and _him_ because waking means that the dream is over and I have to wait all over again.

Because forbidden 2 A.M. doesn't come enough times in the day.


	2. metaphor: RoxSt

**Title: **_metaphor_

**Pairing: **_RobinxStarfire_

A flower. Love is a flower. She smiles and stares at the it, waters it and takes care of it. When it is sad, what does she do? She leans in and kisses a petal, says that everything will be all right and that darkness cannot last forever. After all, the morning always comes, does it not? Do not let it get you down. Do not let this day ruin your mind. Stay happy. _Be_ happy.

And she loves the flower. With all her being.

But the flower will not tell her about it's heart. It will not say those words she needs to hear. The flower wants only to stand against the dark. So, she toils and cares and worries and loves and wants as she watches the flower grow and change and reach for the sun.

And she waits for it to find the words. Because she loves it so.

But loving a flower is a silly thing to do.

**A/N: **This is a re-edit of this chapter xD Sooo, yeah. A review said that it was hard to see how RxS connected, and I realize that...yes. It is. So, I figured I'd explain it. The theme was "metaphor," so I used the metaphor "love is a flower." And, "she" is Starfire. So, it can be taken as Starfire loving a flower, if you want. But, the story itself is a metaphor for Starfire loving Robin, the flower. Saying that the flower cannot show its feelings for her is a way of saying that Robin doesn't let his show, and he's too wrapped up in fighting the dark (a.k.a. Slade, various bad guys). So yeah. Loving someone who will not love you back can be considered "a silly thing to do." Hopefully, this will clear things up xDD It was just meant to be short, and I felt it was pretty explainatory.

**Disclaimer:** Teen Titans and the characters there in do not belong to me. They are property of DC Comics/Cartoon Network/Warner Bros. I earn no profit.


	3. sky: HSxBF

**Title: **_sky_

**Pairing: **_HotSpotxBlackfire_

And he can't help but think that her hair is like the sky. Even though, in his heart it doesn't make sense. To anyone, such a statement would prompt such a question as, "Does she have blue hair?" and he could contest that yes, sometimes she does. Because she's unpredictable and spontaneous and gorgeous and dangerous—and girls like that always change their style. Nonconformist—that's what she is, because she can't be anything else.

But, really, her hair looks like the sky. Not blue, but black. Black like the night, black like the galaxy, sparkles and stars intwined and glittering as she throws it over her shoulder with reckless abandon. She smiles coyly at him, before disappering into her own night.

And when he looks in the sky, he sees only her and her hair and her dark eyes and he waits for her to come again so that he can live in that everlasting night. He knows that their love is only night, that morning can't exist. That, for her, night might not even be there. Because _she's_ not always there. She's hopping planets, sleeping on clouds, and hanging stars from her ears just because she can. She's never stationary, always moving, always changing and she has his heart in her clutches.

A criminal, an outcast, a thief, a princess, a slave, a villian. She carries the titles about her with arrogance and haughtiness and pride. She swears she will destroy her sister, that she will one day take what is hers, as she lays her head on his shoulder and asks him to give her a flame. Komand'r, her name forever in his mind, just as she will never call him Isiah. And that's okay, because he knows something about her that no one else knows.

Her hair is like the sky. And her eyes are the stars.

**A/N: **Isiah is Hot Spot, by the way. And Komand'r is Blackfire. Crack pairing, probably, I know. But I really like the two. (despite their lack of interaction in the show, and my lack of knowledge on what Hot Spot even acts like). Hot Spot's so cute, though. o3o And..."sky" just really screamed Blackfire to me for some reason. xD

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Titans, or the characters therein. They belong to Warner Bros./Cartoon Network/DC Comics. I make no profit.


	4. lost scene: slightRoxSt

**Title**: _lost scene_

**Pairing**: _RobinxStarfire_

Dangerous, dark, seductive. If asked to describe her in words, that was the best that Robin could do. Looking at her, there's much more, and he knows it, but he's just a detective. A detective who's still just a teenager who's still just a boy with no ability whatsoever when it comes to discovering what women are _really _about. Yes, she was gorgeous, even an idiot could see that—but she was up to something. Something, something, some…and his brain trails off as she scrapes a slender finger along his jaw.

"What're you up to Blackfire?" The best way to get an answer was, of course, to ask a question. Not like she actually follows that formula.

"Up to?" and she twirls, tight skirt hugging her hips as she gently performs a whatever-it's-called ballerina move in the air. "What_ever_ do you mean, _Robin_?" And it doesn't take a genius to hear the purposely stressed, flirty, avoiding tone in her voice. Her pink wig rocks on her head.

And, for a moment, whether it's from the lights and the darkness of the warehouse, or from the subconscious of his brain always reeling and obsessing over the subject, Robin swears that she almost looks like…….But he knows she's not.

"Your sister isn't doing all that well," he mutters, face red as she twirls a strand of his reluctant, spiky hair around her finger. Her face falters, for a moment, but not from concern. "Don't you even care? You _are _her sister."

But Blackfire simply stares at him, in a way that he knows can almost read be read as '_Why talk about _her_ when you could talk to _me' because she casually looks over her shoulder at the warehouse door that leads to the roof, where her sister is. Alone. She smiles back at Robin, who's just a detective and just a teenager and just a boy who is completely and totally unaware that he is her sister's object of adoration. "Starfire can take care of herself." Jealous? Perhaps, a bit. More than likely, a lot. But she's not in love with Robin.

He's a detective, but he can never see what she's hiding, what she's…_up to_.

And Robin can't take it anymore, not knowing—about _her_, about the pink wig's motives, dancing in front of him, tempting him—and he escapes her grasp. She's dangerous, and he knows something's wrong.

"Where are you going?" her voice asks, her fingers grabbing his arm. "Stay and talk to me."

And under the flirty, smirking tone, he can't hear the desperation in her voice.

_Why does _she_ deserve to be happy?_

_Why not _me?

Even though she knows why.

Because she's not _Starfire_.

She's dark and seductive. She's dangerous, _bad_.

Starfire is happy. And Blackfire is all these things because in the end…She's not.

* * *

**A/N: **Kind of straight forward...I hope. Since the prompt was "lost scene" I decided to describe a scene that could have been in an episode. So, this takes place in the episode "Sisters" after Blackfire comes out with a pink wig and drags Robin from the roof, right before Starfire gets attacked again. It can represent a "lost scene" in another way as well, but...yeah xDDD Hope you don't get lost in the way I write sometimes. It makes sense in my head xD

So, yeah...this is Blackfire angst. Because I really love her. o3o

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Teen Titans, or the characters therein. They are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment.


	5. degrees: slightSpxCh

**Title: **_degrees_

**Pairing: -**_hidden-SpeedyxCheshire_

On a scale of 1 to 10, he knew he would have to admit that this was definitely a fi…

-_Grunt_-

Scratch that. More like an eight.

Eight pushing on nine pushing on fourteen.

In terms of degrees however, he figured that it was at least 1000 degrees in one of the levels of Hell, and he was nearing _at least _874 degrees in terms of how _painful_ this was turning out to be. And he wished that she would just pull out the damn knife already and slit his throat and be done with it. Because she had him pinned and there was no way he was going to escape and, even if he did, it wasn't like he had any arrows left to shoot her with anyway.

And if he did, would he be willing to shoot her? Possibly kill her?

There was a big possibility that she deserved it, that she had killed tons of people.

He knew that he probably wouldn't anyway. He wasn't really that kind of guy.

Under the mask, she was probably pretty, cute. Probably pleasant, probably funny.

And probably more than a little insane.

But he wore a mask around her too, right? It didn't have a freaky cat smile on it, but it was still the same concept. Maybe, to her, he was just as crazy as she was to him. Granted, he didn't kill people with knives attached to his hands, or prance around in a cat-face mask and a skimpy kimono, but, hey—what can you do?

There was a huge area of ambiguity involved with crime fighting—he never really _knew _the people he fought, and they rarely ever knew him, unless he was Robin and the person he was fighting was Slade. But, that wasn't the case here. He was much better looking than Robin. And, Cheshire was a tad more interesting than other crazy psychos.

If not just for the sole fact that one or the other usually ended up on top of the other during their infrequent but numerous encounters. Not that it had ever been this intense before, because something usually happened that let her (or, in some cases, _him_) get away. She had never gotten this close to killing him, and now she was just _toying_ with him.

"Get it over with, 'kay?" he managed to say, quite pleasantly, despite the fact that one claw-like knife was stabbing somewhere in his arm and the other was slowly scraping across his chest. "Just, when you kill me, make sure you don't get too much blood on my face, okay? It's much too pretty to be covered in that kind of thing, and I'd prefer if my team could still see my dazzling smile."

This apparently didn't settle too well with her—or she had a small sense of humor or a complete lack of patience—because she dug her claw deeper into his chest, halting its slow path across his skin. Her Cheshire mask smiled emotionlessly at him as his face contorted from the pain.

920 degrees now. _At least_.

_She_ on the other hand, seemed to be less than that—like twenty below and dropping. He could almost feel the cold coming off of her, off her icy mask. And maybe the delirium from the pain or the heat or both (though, really, was there any heat? Or was that imagined too?) caused him to want to know why, though, normally, he really didn't care to know. Perhaps, he decided, that, if he was going to die, he had every reason to know _why_ at least.

So, in his casual, no-nonsense, typical-Speedy way of dealing with things-that-he-really-has-no-business-knowing-or-no-real-reason-for-knowing, he asked, "Why?"

And she stopped. Had no one _really_ ever asked her why?

Or was that a question that never had time to be asked?

"Why me? Why anyone?" he continued, and the degrees were fluctuating in his mind, between the intensity of the situation and the pain coursing through his body and the sudden realization that she was straddling him, that she had been for the past ten minutes. And he still wasn't dead. Even though he was completely powerless. Even though she had had her knife slowly driving into him. She had him right where she wanted him. And he wasn't dead yet.

Maybe that was a better question. _Why am I still alive?_

980 degrees.

"Speedy!"

Her head snapped up, jerking her knives slightly and pushing the heat in his body past the point of Hell, before she ripped them out of his flesh and disappeared into the trees and the night. And he still wasn't dead. Even if he wished, slightly, that he was.

Aqualad appeared from the shadows of the trees, away from where she had vanished, his own face covered in perspiration from searching as frantically as he and the others had. At the sight of Speedy on the ground, bleeding and gasping, he nearly screamed from panic, but managed to rush to his comrade's side, Speedy attempting to smile, watching his friend half-crying, half-relieved, half-scared out of his wits. Even fractions didn't make sense anymore.

"Speedy! Are you—Roy? Oh God, what happened? Roy!"

He had fainted, shock and pain and heat and everything else.

To Aqualad, he felt extremely cold.

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah...not really SpeedyxCheshire...but kind of? I guess. Like...she doesn't kill him, so...she likes him in the fact that she likes to torture him? Whatever. Mostly written for the fun of writing from Roy-boy's simi-point-of-view. And I cheated on integrating the "degrees" prompt into this xD In the end...it doesn't make sense. But, Roy's head, to me, tends to not make sense. Here, he's trying to think of other things rather than the obvious thing he should be thinking about. Yeah.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Titans, or the characters therein. They are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment.


	6. seize the day: BBxT

**Title:** _seize the day_

**Pairing:** _TerraxBeastBoy_

_"Carpe diem, Garfield."_

He decided that it was funny how random phrases and bits of memories can manage to sneak their way into your mind when you really just wish, against everything, that they would—"_please_"—go away. Funny how they're phrases that really make no sense appearing at the time they do, in the long run, but still manage to make you cry because, for some reason, they _do_ make sense. Funny how it really _wasn't_ funny. There was nothing funny about it and, for the life of him, he couldn't make it funny. Because all it did was make him feel worse than he already did, lying on the broken cement, staring at the smoke rising from the battle going on only fifty feet away.

"_Carpe diem, Garfield."_

The first thing she would say to him as he woke up. The first thing he heard the morning he never saw her again. The last thing she said, walking out the door, glancing over her shoulder, equipment heavy on her back. The last thing she _ever_ said.

So unimportant, so stupid.

Stupid how he was remembering it _now_, of all the times he could remember it.

Stupid how it was just a phrase, just a dumb saying that he only knew because she'd said it so often. Why couldn't it have been, "I love you Garfield," "I don't think your father and I will leave the house today," "I promise nothing will ever happen to me"? But no. The last thing she said was in _Latin_. Not even English, not even a real parting sentence. The last thing she said was almost a hint, like she was saying: Live life now, while you still can—it could be over before you know it.

So unimportant, so stupid, so completely and utterly…_like her_.

And tears sprang to his eyes.

_"Carpe diem, Garfield."_

A shadow formed above him, dark purple eyes gazing at him from under a hood.

_Time to go_. "Thanks for the help," came Raven's sarcastic, unforgiving voice. He sat up, hearing her move on as he dried his eyes. The others were handing the villain over to the authorities, looking curiously in his direction, worried and disappointed and wondering why he had refused to move, why he had sat out.

He walked home without saying a word.

* * *

In her room, darkness outside, darkness inside. Dry, like the desert on the walls.

"_Carpe diem_, Terra." And his voice was a croak, silent.

Another memory came into his mind, funny and not funny, sad and wonderful.

"_Carpe diem!"_

"_Silly, do you even know what that means?"_

"_Of course I do! It means…it means…"_

"_You don't!"_

"_I do. You just didn't give me time to think about it."_

"_I don't _have_ years and years, Garfield."_

"_Seize the day! See—I told you I'd think of it!"_

"_Seize the day…I like the sound of that. But you're the one that should listen."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because you always sleep half of it away, doofus."_

A picture of her in his mind, happy, smiling. A picture in his hand, taken when she wasn't looking. Not smiling, but she's content. Her eyes are.

And again, a different place. Not happy, not content. Crying.

The last thing she said.

"_Carpe diem. That's what you told me, right? Seize the day, seize the moment. There's only one now. Only one today, one chance, one lifetime. Carpe diem. I like the sound of that. This is my moment Garfield."_

_She turned and smiled at him, eyes glowing, magma and fire surrounding her._

"_Carpe diem, Garfield. Remember that. Carpe diem."_

Live your life. Don't give up. It's not over.

He wished he knew the Latin word for goodbye.

* * *

**A/N:** Geeeeh. Kind of weak, I realize. But...it fit for some reason. The whole _Carpe diem _thing gets a little repetitive--sorry! It's basically a Latin phrase meaning "seize the day" (or "seize the moment", "gather the day", etc...). So, it fit to me. I really have no idea how Gar's parents died, so this is just me making it up and all that. So, the whole thing about his mom telling him to basically "seize the day" every morning is completely made up for my own purposes. At first, it's the mom's phrase, and then, later, it's Terra's phrase.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Teen Titans, or the characters therein. They are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment.


	7. give: RoxSt

**Title: **_give_

**Pairing:** _RobinxStarfire_

There are times when she is especially sad. Those times when she lays on her bed, playing with the fringe of her blankets, wondering about God-knows-what and fretting over it as she bites her lip and furrows her eyebrows, leaving me sitting without really knowing what to do to make it better and getting frustrated for all the right and wrong reasons.

It's in those moments, those rare sadnesses of hers, that I realize how little I know about her. How little anybody knows about her. It's in those moments that I almost ask, that I almost break that barrier, that wall between what she lets me see and what she doesn't, what I need to know and what I don't. And, when it all comes down to it, I keep my mouth shut and just continue to watch her fiddle with the loose strands of fabric as blood starts to form around her teeth. It never occurs to me that, perhaps, she wants me to ask.

But, how can I, after _I _keep so much from her? How can I after I have felt her bare back covered in scars and memories of that past that I have no idea about, that I probably have no business knowing about? How can I ask her to tell me, when I know how much it hurts?

And today is one of those days, one of those dreadful days where I wish she would just smile and laugh like she normally does; because I'm just stuck here worrying and wondering over her and obsessing over the fact that she is definitely _not _happy or anything close that, but she is, in fact, incredibly _not_ like herself at all. And there's nothing I can do about it.

"Star, what's wrong?"

She doesn't answer, as expected. Her silence is predictable, as is the small pause in her fiddling. But then she looks up at me—not furrowing her brows, as I expected, or biting her lip or whimpering before she seeks comfort in my arms, as I, rather guiltily, expect.

Her expression is dark, almost heavy. As she looks at me, she sits up, straightening herself, letting her hair fall across her shoulders, before she finally opens her mouth. "Good fences make good neighbors," she says, and her eyes are not on me.

"What do you—"

"With a good enough fence, you never have to see anyone. Your neighbor is good because you cannot tell that he is bad. You cannot see if he is troubled or angry. He is good, because what else can he be? You do not ask, because he might not be happy or perfect or in a good mood or anything like that. And he would not be a good neighbor. Right?" She smiles at me, as if she understands something I don't. "The fence helps you as well, not just your neighbor. Smile and laugh enough, and the world will never ask about your problems. When you are sad, no one will find the answer because it may be too painful. The fence keeps others out, and keeps you in."

She looks at the ground, and I touch her shoulder.

It's not long before she looks at me. "We make very good neighbors, Robin."

* * *

**A/N:** Robin and Starfire angst. Woo hoo. So far...none of these have been happy love. lol. But, the whole "Good fences make good neighbors" is, as I know it, from a Robert Frost poem ("Mending Wall"), so...that belongs to him in a sense. This is just to comment on Robin's whole lack of trust with everyone, and the fact that Raven's probably the only one who knows anything about his past, and the fact that none of the others really ever bothered to ask Starfire just why she was being chased by weird alien monsters and was locked up. I still believe that her past life was not all hearts and rainbows and weird feasts where all the people jump on the food like...monsters. It's an alien culture, but they overdo everything and...it bothers me. Soooo, yeah. Starfire's past in the comics was really hard and I'm kind of using that as inspiration here (though animated Star is waaaaay too happy to have gone through a lot of what comic Star did). 

Why do they wear their uniforms all the time?! WHY? Just a question. Unless they're fighting...I generally imagine them out of uniform. And they sometimes call each other by their real names. Because...honestly. Sheesh.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Titans or the characters therein. They are property of DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment.


	8. opposite: KFxJ

**Title: **_opposite_

**Pairing: **_KidFlashxJinx_

"It's not what you think."

That's what she wants to say, but the words don't come out. She didn't come here for the reasons he thinks she did, and she wants to tell him that. But his smug look and his eyes on her and his smile keep her from rebuffing him with those potentially hurtful words. Blue eyes are an awful weakness for her and his eyes are the kind of blue that threaten to swallow her up.

So, instead, she smiles at him. Cheshire-cat smile, she hopes—but she knows it's not.

Because his hand is still stretching towards her, and his face is **sooo** terribly _sure_.

Her smile is a million-watts and she can feel it. Burning.

"You came back, Jinx," he finally says. And is that relief?

Is that relief she hears weaving its way into his voice, that strong, oh-so-confident voice?

Her smile falls apart on the inside, but she knows it's still stupidly plastered outside.

If the situation were different, if _she_ was different, her heart might have fluttered.

But, with the situation being as it is, and herself being who _she_ is, it didn't.

But it wants to.

And she swallows to keep herself from saying yes.

Because no matter who she _is_ she won't let herself lie—not to him.

"Wally?"

And he smiles, bright, blue eyes dancing as he starts to near her.

He's fast but he won't run.

Normality is something she knows they all crave for. In an instant, he could be at her side, arms around her like he's done so many times before. In less than a second, he could sweep her away. But she knows, sometimes, he likes to act like that's not a fact. Like there aren't any jets warming up inside his feet, like he really can't run around the world faster than she can jog to the end of the street.

Sometimes, she knows he just likes to be Wally West. And nothing else.

And that's how she knows that he'll be vulnerable.

That's how she knows she can cause the lamp post to fall on him.

That's how she knows she can hit him, hard enough to knock him out cold.

That's how she knows he won't be able to get away.

Behind her, Gizmo and Mammoth bubble with laughter, emerging from the gas station where they had been waiting for her to get rid of the Roger Street patrol. She hears them mock him and scorn him.

And she closes her eyes to swallow salt and water fighting at the corners.

Because, sometimes, she wants to be normal too.

Sometimes she doesn't want to try and be something she knows she can never be.

Because she's not clean.

And she's not good.

No matter how much he wants her to be.

No matter how much she wants to be.

But her heart aches and she can feel it.

And…it's for the good of _her _team, the good of _her _friends.

Because even if she's not good, and even if she's dirty and rotten and total scum…

She's never been good at betrayal.

Even if _his_ trust was the only person's she had ever gained.

She tells herself it's not the same.

That he _wasn't_ her friend.

That he never meant more to her than a way to escape, to try something new.

"It's not what you think," she says.

And she tells herself that her eyes are dry.

**A/N: **Self-explanatory. Because, it really didn't make sense to me that Jinx would just suddenly...be good. Because, really, Mammoth and Gizmo must have been her friends--at least a little bit. And from "Deception" it's obvious from how she reacts to Cyborg's betrayal that she has _some sort_ of sense of loyalty, and suddenly going to the Titans would completely destroy that, right? Yeah...I'm one of those people that thinks about how bad Mammoth and Gizmo must have felt (not to mention poor Billy! lol. I love that kid) when she turned against them. Even if it was for Kid Flash. (who is hot.).

Gaaaaah. Off my soap box. These little shots aren't the best (they're pretty low quality some times, geeeeh), I know, but I have fun writing them. So I hope, if you do read them, that you get a bit of enjoyment from them at least. Thanks to those who have reviewed.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Titans, or the characters therein. They belong to Warner Bros./Cartoon Network/DC Comics. I make no profit.


	9. connection: SpxT

**Title: **_connection_

**Pairing: **_SpeedyxTerra_

"We have a connection, you know."

She says this, typical smile on her face—the smile that's just _so her_—and he frowns. A connection? Yeah right, he wants to say. Because, really, they're nothing alike and there's no reason he should even be _here_ (and he thinks that like he doesn't want to be) listening to her ramble about things like the color of the sky and the way yogurt always looks more tasty in the photographs than in the package and the fact that a blade of grass is akin to a whistle which makes her think of playing soccer and did he know that that's her favorite sport? So, he taps a knuckle on her forehead and asks, "How so, rock monster?"

With a laugh and a twinkle of blue eyes she winks at him. "We just do."

He leans back in the grass and looks down the hill. She's slightly in front of him, blonde hair blowing around her, butterfly clip holding back her bangs (and he remembers how he thought of her when he bought it and he still can't believe he _did_ buy it—or that she's even wearing it now, but she's _Terra_ and that's what she does, because he is _Roy _after all, and that makes it all make sense somehow).

"You don't think so?" she asks, almost incredulously.

"I don't see it," he says, nonchalantly, sitting up again, leaning towards her slightly and fingering a strand of her hair. "I mean…"

"We're nothing alike," she finishes. Her coy smile strikes him (but does _not_ make his heart beat a moment faster, even if it really does) and he can't help but smirk, crookedly.

"Well it's true, and you know it. We have absolutely nothing in common," he insists.

Terra nods her head, agreeing, but probably not too—because he knows her well enough to know that she won't ever just agree with him, she loves to argue too much to be compliant with anything (and that's why they can never decide what movie to see). "Your favorite color is blue, my favorite color is red. Two completely different colors. But, think about it. Together they make purple—a color we both agree represents royalty and when we think of royalty we're reminded of kings and when we think of kings the first person that pops in our heads is Elvis and he reminds us of…"

"Ice cream," he continues with a laugh. "And strawberry smoothies and rock n' roll and the first time I saw you and told you that banana mint cream is the best flavor of ice cream—and it still is, by the way."

"But, I don't agree with that," Terra says, tongue sticking out in disgust.

"Of course you don't," he says with a smirk, resting his forehead against the side of her head.

And he still can't really remember how they met, even if a part of him knows it was only two months ago in an ice cream parlor. Because, somehow, he feels like he's known her longer. And he should have and would have—considering she _was_ a Titan, after all. Even if she really wasn't anymore.

"A connection…" he muses, smiling. There's a past there that he doesn't know or understand—a part that wants to ask about the parts of her back that are still stone, those scraps of rock that look like scars—but, there's a past about him that she doesn't know or understand as well. And perhaps that's part of that connection. Perhaps they're so close now because neither knew about the other before two months ago. Perhaps their minds work the same way, hide the same way, ramble the same way, dance around the more important things the same way—and that's fine with him. One less person to worry about everything, one less person to continually ask him questions.

"Maybe," she says, finishing with a click of her tongue.

"Maybe," he agrees.

**A/N: **Ha ha. So...the pairing is really odd. There's no real beginning or end for this, so the relationship development may not make sense. But...for some reason, Terra and Speedy strike me as a really pretty pair. I don't know why. They have no interaction in the show whatsoever, so I feel like they'd know very little about eachother--Speedy'd probably know about the whole betrayal thing, but not when he first met her. The butterfly clip thing was thrown in there because Terra's major motif is a butterfly. So, I decided that Speedy would buy it for her, pretending not to have thought about her when he did, not knowing that it was similar to what she wore before. Or something. In my head, their minds work the same. They're both loud and obnoxious and completely avoid anything that might be considered important to everyone else because they'd rather not dwell on it. And they both have past scars...and blah blah blah. Yah.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Teen Titans, or the characters therein. They belong to Warner Bros./Cartoon Network/DC Comics. I make no profit.


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